


ISLAND STYLE

by Jantique



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Education, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-30
Updated: 2011-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-23 06:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jantique/pseuds/Jantique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He would always be a haole (and proud of it!), but he wasn’t dumb, and he didn’t have to be ignorant. Danny takes language lessons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ISLAND STYLE

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I don’t speak Pidgin. Babelfish doesn’t speak Pidgin. Or even pure Hawai’ian. So other than a few words, I’ve written everything in English, in italics. Note: Not all italics are necessarily Pidgin!

Danny had _had_ it with Hawaiians, what did they call it, the _kama’aina_ , and their noses-in-the-air, flowers-in-their-hair superiority. Speaking Hawai’ian so the dumb, ignorant _haoles_ couldn’t understand what they were saying. In New Jersey everyone spoke English!—okay, maybe a little Italian, a little Yiddish, but everyone understood those words! (Everyone he knew.) Well. He would always be a _haole_ ( _and proud of it_!), but he wasn’t dumb, and he didn’t have to be ignorant. Danny quietly set about ameliorating his lack of knowledge.

 

He found Ms. Akana via the internet. She lived in Honolulu, just outside the city proper, and was offering lessons in her native language. Kai Akana was a retired widow. Her children were grown and gone, and she was bored, so she had decided to teach something she knew. Danny explained his needs: he was a cop, and needed to understand the bad guys. (He didn’t mention what he barely acknowledged to himself: that he didn’t want to feel like an outsider with his team.) She considered this, and dropped the bomb: he didn’t want to learn pure Hawai’ian. Oh, some Hawai’ian words, sure, but people most commonly spoke Pidgin. She suspected that that was what the criminal element would be speaking. She could teach him some of that, and was sure that her grandson, Kileona, would know the street talk.

 

So Danny went back to school. He’d taken language lessons before, studying Spanish in high school, and Italian in college. (It turned out that being half-Italian hadn’t really helped. He could swear creatively, but couldn’t ask for directions. Although learning Italian love poems had definitely helped on dates.) And Pidgin wasn’t a _completely_ foreign language. He could do this.

 

He felt a little guilty about lying to his team, but rationalized that it was for his—Danny’s—own good. If they knew he was taking language lessons, they would give him no end of grief. And he certainly wasn’t going to go to one of them for lessons!

 

“So you know I go to the gym, well, spinning class is at five on Tuesdays. So _if_ there’s nothing going on, _if_ we’re not on a high-speed chase, up to our armpits in criminals, I’d like to leave early, okay?”

 

Steve smirked. “Spinning—is that like knitting?”

 

Kono chimed in, “No, that’s what the witch did, when Sleeping Beauty pricked her finger!”

 

Chin didn’t say anything, but he looked amused.

 

Danny shot them all the Glare of Death and stopped feeling guilty. _Schmucks_! Spinning class was Thursday at six. Language lessons were Tuesday at five.

 

Kileona, Ms. Akana’s grandson, was 19, worked in an auto shop, and was definitely street-smart. He was happy to further Danny’s education. He considered himself law-abiding and (mostly) stayed out of trouble, but it never hurt to have a friend in law enforcement.

 

Two months later, Danny felt that he was definitely making progress. He wasn’t expert yet, and Kileona kept criticizing his accent ( _what_ accent?!), but he was _almost_ ready to stun his team with his new-found knowledge.

 

Just at the moment, however, language lessons were the farthest thing from his mind. Steve and he were in the Camaro, going to interview a vic’s cousin. Probably a waste of time, but she was the closest relative they could find. Meanwhile, it was a beautiful day for a drive along a deserted stretch of highway.  As they approached a small, run-down convenience store sitting alone on the side of the road, Danny called out, “Hey, pull over! I want to get something to drink.”

 

Steve obediently swerved into the unpaved yard. Danny hopped out.

 

“Hey, you want anything?”

 

“Yeah, water would be good.”

 

“You got it.”

 

Danny went into the store. The guy behind the counter gave him a quick, suspicious glance, then dismissed the _haole_.  He called out something to someone unseen, in rapid-fire Pidgin. Danny didn’t catch all of it, it was too quick, but he definitely heard “ _guns … shed … lock the door_ ”. Also “ _hupo_ ”, which he knew meant stupid. He wasn’t sure whether that referred to the unseen listener or him. He schooled a blank look on his face, paid for the waters and calmly walked back to the car.

 

He hopped in, threw the bottles in the back, and pulled out his gun.

 

“C’mon, Steve, we got a crime scene right here. Two perps, maybe more, in the store, and guns in the shed.”

 

Steve looked excited and hopefully reached for the glove compartment.

 

“Uh, no, babe, I don’t think we’re going to need grenades.”

 

Steve _did not_ pout. “But Danny, these are only flashbangs!”

 

That (non)pout was just too cute. Danny sighed. “All right, but just one!”

 

Steve smiled. It was so easy to make him happy.

 

They apprehended the perps, broke open the shed, found a small arsenal, called HPD. It was all good. (Except Steve didn’t get to use the flashbang. Danny consoled him, “Next time, babe, next time.”)

 

It wasn’t until they were actually back at HQ, and Danny was telling the whole story (with appropriate gestures) to Kono and Chin that Chin said, “Wait a minute. You were standing right there, and the guy said, ‘Put the guns in the shed,’ right in front of you?”

 

Danny panicked for a millisecond, then realized he would never have a better opening. He beamed. “Yes, he did, and _that_ is what you get for underestimating the _haole_.” He paused, then raised his chin and carefully enunciated, “He may have said it in Pidgin.”

 

Steve, Chin and Kono all stared at him.  Then Kono squealed, “”Brah! Fo’ real? _Akamai_!”  

 

Through the enormous grin splitting his face, Danny said, “ _Mahalo nui loa_.”

 

Steve smiled and said, “Danny’s not a _malihini_ anymore.” Throwing his arm across Danny’s shoulders, he said, “Come on, everybody! We need to celebrate.”

 

Chin asked curiously, “Danny, when did you learn Pidgin?”

 

Danny smirked and said smugly, “Spinning lessons!”

 

Danny decided to tease. “Yeah, so tell me, what’s the Hawai’ian for ‘Bud Light’?”

 

In chorus, Kono, Chin and Steve all chimed, “Longboard!”

 

As they walked out, Steve murmured, “So, you think you could lose the tie?”  He gave the offending garment a hopeful tug.

 

“What? No, it looks profess—okay, maybe. Just for tonight.”

 

 

END

 

kama’aina: Hawai’ian native  
haole: white mainlander  
hupo: stupid  
akamai: clever  
Mahalo nui loa: thank you very much  
Malihini: newcomer 


End file.
